


Riding Rank S

by aobahime (hereiamramblingagain)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal, Body Harness, Fingering, M/M, Post Game, Riding, dimiclaude, minor spoilers for blue lions and golden deer, written for the a kings journey/his highness dimitri zine!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28206708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereiamramblingagain/pseuds/aobahime
Summary: Throughout the course of his daily duties, Dimitri had no reason to visit the eyrie. Despite this, he finds himself wandering past every so often to watch the wyvern riders work. He was watching one wyvern rider in particular, but he was avoiding admitting that little detail to himself.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	Riding Rank S

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys its been a sec!! Wrote this bad boy for the A Kings Journey/His Highness Dimitri zine! In celebration of our bois birthday I have been allowed to post my piece! This was so much fun to write I hope you enjoy it!! Keep an eye on the @dimitri_zine twitter page for our leftovers sale!!!

Throughout the course of his daily duties, Dimitri had no reason to visit the eyrie. Despite this, he finds himself wandering past every so often to watch the wyvern riders work. He was watching one wyvern rider in particular, but he was avoiding admitting that little detail to himself. 

The steady flow of dark green and brown beasts overhead is punctuated by a stark white one, and Dimitri cranes his head up to watch the beautiful Almyran colors flutter against its scales. As it disappears into the eyrie, he begins searching the faces of the soldiers and knights leaving. He chides himself as he does, but when a flash of yellow emerges from the crowd, his heart still skips a beat. 

“Your princeliness!” Claude shouts as he spots him. “Waiting for me again?”

“Ah, I was just walking by,” Dimitri lies. ”You know I’m a king now.” 

“So am I!” Claude counters as if it absolves him from using the title, throwing his hands up behind his head. “And don’t worry, you know I understand slacking off. No better way to forge an alliance than watching the other leader do flight drills.” 

“It is fascinating,” Dimitri admits. 

The Almyran king turns and begins walking back into the eyrie, flashing a smile over his shoulder, knowing full well that Dimitri is following close behind. “It’s not so different from a riding horse.”

He scoffs, “Of course riding a dragon is not so different from a horse. My apologies. I have barely even been on a horse in the past few months. And for show too, I really haven’t seriously ridden anything since the academy.” 

“Is that so?” Claude snorts. 

Realization hits Dimitri and his face burns. “What I meant-“

His embarrassment brings Claude great pride, and he smirks devilishly. “It’s okay, I knew what you meant.” 

He’s working to unhook his overcoat, and it takes Dimitri a moment to stutter out, “N-no, I don’t think that you do,”

“Loosen up, Dimitri.” He ducks into a room, tugging off his heavy leather gloves. “No need to be such a prude.” 

Dimitri huffs, but keeps his mouth shut, instead glancing around the locker room of the eyrie. Claude tosses his gloves into a large, open locker and begins to work off his armor. Dimitri has never noticed just how many belts and straps were hidden under his armor and regalia. He follows the shape of it as discreetly as he can manage. Straps cross over his shoulders and around his waist, meeting in a large ring at the center of his abdomen. Similar straps run across his thighs, and as he turns to hang up his overcoat, Dimitri can watch as his body presses against the harness. It’s tactical gear, nothing more, and yet his blood rushes south just looking at it. 

“What’s all that for?”

“The harness?” Claude snaps a strap against his chest. “There’s a clasp on the saddle that you hook onto here. We have a lot farther to fall if we slip.” 

“I suppose I never realized,”

“Thought I could hang onto a wyvern upside down while firing a bow with just my thighs? I’m flattered,” 

Again, Dimitri huffs, but has no response. His embarrassment seems to placate Claude, who chuckles and continues removing the rest of his gear. He’s left in a thin linen undershirt and his boxers, which cling to his still slightly sweaty body. Dimitri, despite being in the middle of his daily duties, feels horribly overdressed in the warmth of the eyrie. 

Claude snaps him out of his musing. “What’s on your mind, your princeliness?” 

“Ah, I suppose I was just thinking about all the work left to be done,” 

“You work too hard,” 

Dimitri smiles and finally makes eye contact, “Maybe you don’t work hard enough,”

He sneers at the familiar insult, “Is that a challenge?”

Dimitri is taller and much physically stronger, but under Claude’s gaze he feels pinned. “I did not mean-“

“You need to take a break, your Majesty.“ The title holds no respect in his tone. Claude shrugs himself off the wall and steps toward Dimitri. “Sit.”

He sits, landing on the bench Claude backed him into. He’s embarrassingly hard, he realizes. 

“Turn around, and take off all your,” the Almyran king waves his hands dismissively, “-stuff. It’s in the way.” 

Dimitri opens his mouth to protest, but can’t seem to bring himself to do anything other than obey. He shifts around on the bench so his back is to Claude, and begins removing his cloak, actively listening to the sounds of clothes shuffling behind him. Nerves rising, he unhooks pieces of armor with shaky hands and kicks off his boots, leaving the clothes underneath all his regalia. Clasps begin to clink and fasten behind him and he freezes. After a moment Claude quietly goes, “Huh, yeah.” A beat passes and then, “You can turn back now,” 

Dimitri is fairly sure what he will see, yet it stuns him all the same. Claude is leaning back against the locker, miles of caramel skin on display. The only thing he’s chosen to wear is his flight harness. The straps cut into him the same way they did before, but now it’s easy to see the lean muscle pressed up and bulging against each one. 

The Almyran king is unashamed as he says, “I’m not gonna lie, I have thought about doing this before. I just didn’t have an audience.” 

Any words Dimitri could possibly have the confidence to say are stuck in his throat. Instead he manages a dignified, “Uh...” 

His discomfort pleases Claude as always, which is becoming reassuring. Claude beckons him over, making grabby hands at him. “Don’t be so shy, Dimi. I know you wanna touch.”

He stands, but looks to the door. “What if-“

“What are they going to do about it? Report it to their kings?” 

Dimitri has to clear his throat to say, “That’s fair.” 

“C’mon, Dimi.” 

The king of Faerghus finally manages to bring himself to step into Claude’s space, and something breaks within him. He crowds him against the wall, dipping to bury his face in the side of his neck. He inhales deeply, smelling sweat and spicy cologne. Dragging his tongue up the muscle in his neck elicits a satisfying shudder. Neither of them are completely prepared for how much taller Dimitri is. Claude is completely enveloped in the broad chest and arms on either side of his head as Dimitri kisses at his neck. He grunts contentedly as broad hands palm across his chest, investigating the way the straps cut into his skin. Fingertips dig into the firm muscle, and Dimitri does enjoy finally having some amount of control over the situation. 

Pulling his head back to look as he traces the harness, his fingers follow the straps down to the ring in the center. He’s panting in Claude’s ear, and is pleased to see him break out in goosebumps. His fingers slide along the thigh straps, around the back to where they frame his ass. Dimitri is broad and built, and very few people are physically stronger than him. But despite Claude’s slighter frame, he’s still extremely strong, and every muscle he pokes and prods makes him more and more interested in experiencing that power. 

Claude grumbles a bit, tossing his head back to look at him. “You’re too gentle. I can take it.” 

The words thrill in Dimitri’s chest. “So can I.” 

“Oh?” Claude stands up straight, bumping the taller man back a bit. “My apologies, your majesty. I didn’t realize how you wanted this to go,” 

Dimitri grunts as he’s grabbed and flipped back against the wall, Claude sneering dangerously up at him. His mind screams “Yes!” as fingers dig roughly into his biceps. A tense moment passes, and then he is yanked down to meet Claude’s mouth. It has been almost six years since they last kissed during a secret rendezvous at the Academy, but the Almyran king bares as much teeth as Dimitri remembers. He nips at his lips almost as much as they tangle tongues, and before long he can taste blood in his mouth. Claude is tugging at his shirt, opening it as far as he can manage without looking, and splays his hands across Dimitri’s chest. Growing desperate for any type of friction, the blond hooks his hands in the waist of his harness to tug their hips together. 

Claude groans into his mouth, eagerly rutting back against him, and finally manages to completely remove his shirt. “Don’t think I don’t remember how to push your buttons.” Without hesitation, he rakes his nails down the pale chest in front of him, and Dimitri hisses and bucks his hips. 

“You don’t have to gloat,”

Claude reaches between them to cup Dimitri through his trousers. “Don’t I?” 

He whines a protest but can’t keep himself from bucking into his hand. 

Becoming impatient, Dimitri begins trying to remove his own pants. After undoing the button, he pauses only to let Claude shove his pants and underclothes down, and when their hips meet again Dimitri can’t hold back a hitched moan. 

“You really like the harness.”

“How could I not,” he groans, watching how Claude’s hips roll into him, how his hip bones jut out as he moves, the ripple of muscle against the straps. 

“How do you want it, your majesty?” 

“Let me be on top of you,” 

“Oh? You want to ride me? You said it's been a long time since you rode anything, are you sure you can take it?” 

“If I can’t, then you can teach me.” 

Claude grins wildly at that. “With pleasure, my liege.”

Within moments he finishes stripping Dimitri, grabbing at his ass in the process. The king of Faerghus has no time to be concerned with his dignity as Claude crowds him back into his locker, where he falls against the shelf inside. There’s a boot under him and a jacket hanging in his face but Claude has one of his legs hiked up onto his shoulder before he can protest. Dimitri honestly cannot be bothered to care for anything beyond whatever Claude has planned, unabashedly watching him slick his fingers with something on a higher shelf. 

Dimitri still gasps as a slick finger presses against his entrance. Crunched into the locker, Claude fills his vision. He’s beautifully backlit, curls of dark hair stuck to his face with sweat, green eyes devouring the view beneath him. Dimitri has to close his eye as the finger pushes in, followed very closely by a second. He moans, hands scrambling at the walls of the locker. 

Claude is quick with him, just bordering on rough, and Dimitri thinks if he finished him off just like this, he would be more than satisfied. When he’s able to pry his eye open long enough to look up, Claude is watching, taking in his expressions and the way he twitches. He appreciates that Claude isn’t touching his scars, or coddling him about them, and he thinks painfully that the Almyran king probably has plenty of his own. The thought is pushed away by a rough thrust that causes Dimitri to cry out. 

“Enough,” he grunts, “Please, I’m ready,”

“Aw, but I’m really enjoying myself,” Claude pouts, following the statement with a hook of his fingers that has him seeing stars. 

“Claude, please! Please, or I’ll-,” 

“That good, huh?” 

Despite his begging, he still whines when Claude pulls his fingers out. He clambers out of the locker onto his weak legs, nudging at the man in front of him. 

Claude is laughing as he says, “Eager, are we?” 

Dimitri shoots him a pleading glance through his hair, the most eye contact he can bring himself to make. He’s distracted with watching the body in front of him make its way to the floor, and he’s quick to follow. On all fours above him, he’s forced to meet Claude’s gaze. 

The Almyran king looks drunk off the situation. He grabs Dimitri’s ass without hesitation, kneading the muscle under his fingers. His grin is wild but genuine, and when their eyes meet he manages to convey something more than just lust. Perhaps affection, or trust, Dimitri isn’t entirely sure, but he’s comforted all the same. 

He snaps back to the task at hand as Claude pushes him to sit up. Dimitri is kneeling too far back, but it gives him the view of Claude stroking himself slowly. Dragging his eyes across the dark skin and the criss cross of the harness before him, he finally moves to line himself up. The rough stone floors drag across his knees, but the friction of their skin is enough to distract him. 

“Ready?” Claude asks as he teasingly drags the head of his dick around.. 

Dimitri groans, reaching to guide him in. “More than ready.” He bites off a surprised squeak when the head slips in.

“Good!” Claude says cheerily before snapping his hips up. Dimitri gasps, mouth hanging half open. Brow furrowed in concentration, he pushes himself down against Claude’s hips until he’s fully seated. 

Claude is panting through an open mouthed grin. “You all right?”

The blond nods. He adjusts his hands from the floor to gripping the straps that run down across Claude’s abdomen. Using the harness as leverage, he grinds his hips down. 

It takes concentrated effort to watch Claude’s reaction through his own pleasure, but it’s worth it. He gasps and tosses his head back briefly, doing his best to maintain Dimitri’s gaze. After a few more experimental nudges of his hips, Dimitri raises himself up a bit and slides back down. 

“Fu-uck, Dima,” Claude’s nails dig into the blond's thighs. “I thought you were, ah, out of practice.” 

“Muscle memory, perhaps,” he rolls his hips in the ways that make Claude gasp, and in the ways that let his own dick slide across Claude’s abs. The man underneath him watches awestruck as he cards a hand through his long hair, grinding up against him to chase his own pleasure. 

However, Claude is always desperate to maintain control and to throw him off his game, and so after a moment he snaps his hips up into him, with so much force he lifts them off the floor. Dimitri cries out, hunching over and tugging desperately at the harness for leverage. 

It was clearly a good angle for Claude too, and they fall into a speedy rhythm, Claude fucking up against him and Dimitri grinding down. A shift of his hips has Dimitri truly seeing stars, and he’s aware of himself becoming louder. 

The Almyran king, ever charismatic, begins babbling praises like “Fuck Dimitri, look at you, you take it so nice,” and “You’re putting on quite a show your Majesty,” and “Oh, fuck, just like that.” Pride glows Dimitri’s chest every time a particular motion earns more nonsense. 

Dimitri can’t manage to vocalize more than moans, grunts and the occasional cry of Claude’s name. He’s sweating, their pace relentless, but the pleasure building in his gut is enough to override the burning muscles in his thighs. 

“Dima, fuck, Dimitri, I’m so close, can I-“

Dimitri nods, his hair flying around with their movements. “Please,” is all he has to say, untangling a hand from the harness to stroke himself. 

Claude’s babbling continues, “You look so good like this, you’ve always looked hot riding a horse, and you look hot riding me, your thighs are so strong and you make the cutest face when you’re concentrated. Fuck, Dima, I missed this, you feel so good- Goddess! Just like that!”

The praise shoots right through him, and Dimitri’s hips stutter as he comes. He cries out, their bodies suspended as Claude comes just after him, tugging him down as hard as he can. After a moment their muscles give out and they collapse down, Dimitri holding himself up on his elbows. 

He has enough of a thought to look at his come splattered across Claude’s chest, and subsequently, the harness. His body heaves against the straps and Dimitri wonders how he truly had never known about the existence of it before. 

“My turn,” Claude says blearily. 

“W-what?” 

“I wanna appreciate my mess now.” He shoves Dimitri back up, and then off. They are becoming aware of how sore they are, but Claude pushes him so he’s on his hands and knees regardless. The blond grunts, shivering as he feels the mess begin to drip down his thigh. 

“Ahhh,” Claude sighs, groping at his ass. “Fuck your thighs are nice.”

Dimitri groans instead of protesting as Claude scoops up a bit of cum off his thigh to shove back in him. His finger circles through the mess cruelly, and Dimitri’s dick gives a painful twinge in interest. 

“Mmh, okay, sorry.” Claude helps him up onto the bench. They sit and look at each other a moment longer, the gravity of what’s just happened settling in. 

“We should, ah, clean up.”

“Yeah, I guess so. How nice is the kingly bath?” Claude clambers to his feet, and offers his hand to help Dimitri up. 

“Why, are your guest quarters inadequate?” he begins pulling on his pants, wincing a little bit. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, after we fuck in the stables, you’re suggesting we bathe in our separate quarters?” There’s a series of clinks as the harness hits the ground. 

A familiar tone of embarrassment falls into Dimitri’s voice, “No, I... you know that’s not what I intended,” 

“I know, your princeliness.” They are mostly redressed now, Claude looking much like he just finished some very rigorous flight exercises and Dimitri appearing as if he had just run laps in full regalia. 

“Thank you, Claude.” he grips the other king's hand, avoiding looking at him. 

“You’re funny, Dima. It’s no problem. I’ll fuck a king anytime.” 

“Claude, you know I-“ 

“I know, I know.” Claude tips Dimitri’s chin to look at him. “I missed this. Thank you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you guys so much for reading! pls kudo and review i live for your feedback! again please also keep an eye on the @dimitri_zine twitter page for the leftover sale of the zine!! <3


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